Lost and Found
by Glorious Clio
Summary: Set after 2x07. The gang reflects on their losses thus far. Have they even gained anything?


Lost and Found

Rated T

The gang reflects on their losses after a particularly heavy blow to their cause. Spoilers for 2x07. Written almost exclusively during my English class. I was bored. Betaed by the lovely Matriaya!

o0O0o

Marian sat away from the gang, half consumed in shadows, out of reach from the flickering light and heat of the campfire. The camp was unusually quiet. The typical songs and stories were absent; Marian's mood was a contagion, everyone seemed to be brooding on what they have lost.

Djaq lost her family, her homeland, her self... she had nearly lost her life and her freedom. She was starting all over again, remaking herself. Of course, the choice was hers to stay, but it did not make it easier.

John had almost literally lost his life. Most of Nottingham had given him up for dead long ago. Alice had since remarried, and little Little John did not know him at all, except as a nice man... certainly not as a father.

Will had lost his parents, and Luke was far away in Scarborough. Though he was still whittling (indeed he made new outlaw tags at a rapid pace), he missed making things that were not used for a weapon; tables, chairs, cradles... anything other than a bow or arrows.

Much had been given to the Earl of Huntington as a servant when he was a small boy; his parents could not afford to keep him. He barely knew them, or his siblings. He considered Robin to be his real brother. They had both lost a father when Earl Geoffrey died. It rankled him that Gisbourne held Locksley.

Robin had lost his mother in childbirth- he had no memory of the woman who died to give him life. His father died later due to a heart attack, and Robin left for the Holy Land almost immediately after the funeral. Surviving the crusade was a miracle, though he had lost his innocence. He had come home to Locksley only to lose it again to Guy of Gisbourne. And he never quite knew where he stood with Marian. Until earlier, that is.

Marian's loss was the most recent. Sir Edward Fitzwalter had died earlier that day. Her expression was masked. She had cried all her tears. She moved like a marionette, obeying every word like an order; sit, eat, relax, don't cry...

Now Robin was tucking her into a bedroll. She did not flinch, even when he stretched out next to her. She was beyond fearing about her reputation.

She was so cold... Robin was warm- she could feel the heat radiating from his body. She curled closer to him. As if he had been waiting for her to make the first move, he cautiously wrapped an arm around her.

"Shh, Marian, my love. Go to sleep."

She closed her bloodshot eyes obediently and fell, exhausted into slumber.

o0O0o

Robin awoke with a start; the half light of dawn trickled through the green leaves of the trees, but that was not what had woken him. He lay still, trying to figure out what was wrong. Then he realized; he was warm.

_Warm._

Robin closed his eyes again, he was in no immediate danger. In the desert, it was desperately hot, until the night fell; then it was freezing. The few nights he spent in Locksley Manor after his return were cold with dread. Sherwood Forest was invariably damp at night, but right now, he was almost sweating. Half coherent, he rolled over and collided with someone. Much, probably. He cracked his eyes open.

Marian.

The events of yesterday resurfaced in his mind. Sir Edward had died, and Marian followed him into Sherwood Forest. He tried to comfort her, but he knew, after losing his father himself, that there was very little comfort to be had. Robin also knew that the best comfort was merely to be with her, to grieve with her. Indeed, losing Sir Edward was almost like losing his father all over again.

He gazed at his love, taking her in, memorizing her features. He dreamed of her, of course; he had never really stopped dreaming of her (though he would never tell her the nature of some of these dreams). They had never quite captured what it was like to wake up next to her. Her rich dark hair fell away from her face. Marian's blue eyes were closed and her dark lashes (he could almost count them) were curled on her cheeks, almost hiding the dark circles under her eyes. Her face was pale, and if it were not for her pink lips, he would have thought she was a ghost.

Slowly, her eyes fluttered open. He could see the confusion in them as she focused on him. Her face paled even more and she shut her eyes tightly again. Robin chuckled quietly and wrapped his arm around her.

"Am I that horrible to wake up to?"

What came out was a cross between a sob and a laugh. "No, but it means... that my father really is..."

"Gone." He provided her with the word. She nodded, and slid further underneath the covers. Robin tried to pull her out again. "Marian," he gently called her back.

"Shh!!!" Much rolled over and fell back asleep.

"Yes, be quiet, Locksley, people are trying to sleep," Marian said testily.

"Fine." This time he really did pull her out, and half dragged, half carried her out of the camp. Robin could tell she was refraining from screaming, for now at least. She was still the Marian ghost from yesterday. He set her shivering form down gently on a stump and settled next to it on the forest floor. "Now talk."

"About what?"

"Whatever you want. I will listen."

"What? No, Robin. I have no words."

He merely waited patiently, gazing up at her. Much had tried this tactic on their voyage to the Holy Land. He was so quiet, that Robin had felt compelled to fill the silence; he talked about everything, nothing... and finally he talked of his grief. But Marian's grief was so fresh, that Robin was unsure of whether or not this was a good idea.

That feeling was confirmed when she burst into tears.

"Oh my God, I killed him..." he could make out through the tears. Robin squeezed himself on the stump and pulled her into an embrace. She was half on his lap, but neither paused to think about the inappropriate liberties he had just taken. To him, she was his lover who needed comforting. To her, he was a shoulder to cry on.

"You did not kill him, Marian."

"Yes I did, as surely as it was me who drove the knife home."

"No," Robin said fiercely. He pushed her away slightly so she could look her in the face. "No, you did _not_ kill your own father, whatever your words or actions before his death. How could you know they were the last? He knew you loved him, he so obviously treasured you. He died for you. For England. You are not to be blaming yourself anymore."

Marian was taken aback by his words and the force behind them. She squirmed on his lap, trying to free herself. After a few awkward moments, she asked, "Robin, will you let me go?"

"Not until you say it is not your fault."

She collapsed in defeat. She put on her mask again. Tonelessly, she murmured, "It was not my fault."

Robin sighed. It would be a long road. He released her, but she did not leave his lap. She sat there with a vacant look on her features. Robin gently rubbed her arms where he had gripped them so tightly, trying to erase any bruising left by him, even though he knew it was impossible.

"I'm sorry..."

Marian spoke so softly, Robin could hardly hear the words. Yet he knew that they were not meant for him. Even so, he enfolded her into an embrace. Her lips cautiously sought his. The kiss was soft, sad. Robin deepened it. She did not resist; instead she ran her fingers across his stubble, delighting in the roughness she found there. Marian was beginning to lose herself right then and there when Robin slowly pulled away.

"Marian? Is this what you need?" he murmured softly.

Her eyes met his, moist with tears. "I lost my father. I found you. I need you, only you now."

Robin sighed. As much as he wanted, _needed_ to grant her wish, he knew he could not take her like this. They could both end up regretting it; not only that, the forest floor was hardly any place for his love to lie. He took a deep breath. Need subsided. "You and I both know that now is not the right time."

"Is it because we are not married? You're a spoilsport, Robin." Marian said, with a shadow of her former playful self shining through the ghost.

He laughed. "That's part of it. But also, now is not the time for you to become with child. But I can assure you, now that you have found me, you will not lose me again. Now that I have found you again, I will never leave."

She nodded, agreeing silently. Marian got up from his lap. Robin stood up as well, took her arm gingerly and led her back to camp. A new day had dawned.


End file.
